


Lullaby

by RedLeaderfic



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode Tag, Fluff, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 06:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11845602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/pseuds/RedLeaderfic
Summary: Cesaro and a very tired Sheamus settle in after the Ride-Along and their big win.





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bestie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestie/gifts).



> It's Extreme Deadline time! I hope you're having a great reveals day!

Cesaro loitered in the hotel lobby for a good twenty minutes, watching the production crew pack up the cameras and other equipment into the chase vehicle everyone politely pretended they didn't see filming the exterior shots while doing each Ride Along. Two of the lower ranking ones were having a quite animated little discussion just outside the main car, each gesturing with toward the SUV and the extremely large, almost certainly sure to be extremely cranky if woken Irishman snoring peacefully away in the front seat. Cesaro spoke five languages but didn’t need any of them to understand the increasingly desperate _No, YOU deal with it_ argument playing out before him. Cesaro laughed when the both of them threw up their hands and walked away, climbing back into the production car and driving off to leave the SUV sitting there in the hotel loading lane.

He was half tempted to leave Sheamus there. He _was_ sleeping so peacefully, after all.

Finally Cesaro sighed and went back outside to collect his partner, rapping his knuckles against the window until Sheamus startled awake. After a few seconds of fumbling Sheamus managed to roll the window down, blinking in the bright hotel exterior lights. “We still filmin’?”

“That would be extremely boring considering you’ve been unconscious for almost the past half hour.”

Sheamus winced and mumbled sorry; it was general a point of pride among the boys to make it all the way to the end of a trip. He rubbed his face, seemingly trying to force himself back to alertness. “You didn’t take any pictures of me, did you?”

Cesaro put on the most innocent expression he could manage. “Would I take advantage of my partner that way?”

Not innocent enough. In fairness, he hadn’t actually been trying very hard. “I don’t want to see anything on twitter from you,” Sheamus said, his eyes narrowed.

“I am extremely wounded. And in our moment of triumph.” Before Sheamus could check his phone to prove him a bad liar Cesaro pulled the door open; Sheamus was still seatbelted in so he didn’t tumble right out of the car, but he _did_ need Cesaro to gently push him back upright. “Easy now. That would be a very embarrassing injury report.”

Cesaro knew he shouldn’t take advantage of how easy it was to embarrass Sheamus so often, but it really was Sheamus’ own fault for flushing so nicely when he did it. Before Sheamus could start the argument back up Cesaro reached over and undid his seatbelt, starting in on easing him out of the car. “C’mon, big boy, that’s it,” he said, draping Sheamus’ arm over his shoulder. “I won’t take offense, I know you’re so tired you don’t know what you’re saying.” And the sad thing was Cesaro knew poor Sheamus really was that tired; Sheamus frowned, clearly trying to figure out if Cesaro was making fun of him, and Cesaro kissed the side of his head to take the sting out of the teasing. If Sheamus had been working himself up for a fight that was all it took to dissipate it; he dropped his gaze in a way that would have been shy in anyone who didn’t have brash as their default state, the same soft smile on his face he got when he’d had just enough pints to relax but not quite enough to start a bar fight. Cesaro had never really seen the appeal of drinking but sometimes that smile was almost enough to change his mind.

Cesaro grabbed Sheamus’ title belt and put it on his partner’s shoulder, taking Sheamus’ hand and pressing it against the center plate of the belt in the hopes he would stay awake enough to hold it in place. “There you go,” Cesaro said. “Can’t let you forget that.”

Sheamus shook his head, keeping a death grip on his title even as he let Cesaro take most of his weight. He noted the very slight limp on Sheamus’ right leg, not sure if he’d banged his knee during the match – Cesaro was certainly feeling his joints starting to protest all the abuse he’d put them through tonight – or if his back had locked up during the drive. For the first time that night Cesaro wished they hadn’t rushed into filming so quickly after the win. He’d have to make sure to stock up on ice and heat wraps in the morning.

They finally got up to the room and Cesaro unceremoniously dropped Sheamus onto the bed, grinning at the surprised _oof_ and how Sheamus did not move even a one little bit. Sheamus had lost his hat somewhere between the car and getting to the room and Cesaro knew he would have to make time to look for it, the complaining would be endless otherwise. But not right now; Cesaro tugged off Sheamus’ boots and gently, very slowly coaxed him out of his shirt, wincing when he saw how bad the scrapes and welts on his back had gotten in the short time since the match. Maybe he should get that ice now. “How much does this hurt?” he said, stroking his fingertips between two especially angry looking scrapes. 

Sheamus laughed, turning onto his side. “Nothing hurts,” he said. “I’ve never felt better in my life than I do right now.”

Cesaro shook his head and finished getting Sheamus out of his clothes, getting no help at all from Sheamus himself. When it was finally done Sheamus stretched once like an overgrown cat and then curled up on his side, cuddling his title like a teddy bear. Cesaro traced the edges of a bruise on Sheamus’ hip that he definitely was going to feel in the morning, whatever he claimed now, then threw the comforter over him and pushed himself from the edge of the bed.

“Where you goin’?”

“People generally sleep with the lights off.”

“I don’t mind the light.” 

Cesaro hesitated for a second before letting out a loud, exaggerated _the things I do for you_ sigh he in no way actually felt. He draped his own title over the headboard and set Sheamus’ matching one there next to it before stripping down himself and sliding in next to him. The bed wasn’t quite big enough to hold them both comfortably but they rarely were. The two of them had started to get good at making room. 

Sheamus pulled him into a clumsy kiss, too tired for any technique but it wasn’t as if Cesaro minded. “Tonight felt better than any of the times I won the world title,” Sheamus said, almost sounded a little awed by that. “You wouldn’t think that, huh? Used to laugh at the lads who’d get all weepy about winning but I’m feelin’ it now.”

“You don’t look like you’re getting weepy.”

“Didn’t say I was going to, just that I felt it.” Sheamus draped one massive arm across Cesaro’s chest. “It feels different than the first time we did this, yeah?”

“It is different,” Cesaro admitted. He pushed Sheamus’ wilted mohawk out of his face. It always surprised him how such a rough man could have such silky hair when it wasn’t all done up for battle. “That’s my fault.”

He wasn’t sure Sheamus had heard that last part, which he supposed was just as well. “Think this has been the best year I’ve ever had,” sleepiness making his brogue thicker by the word.

“Oh, better than winning Money in the Bank and then the title?”

“Yes,” Sheamus said without the slightest hesitation. 

This time Cesaro kissed him, making sure to make note of when Sheamus sighed and pressed close so he could be sure to do exactly that again come morning. “Go to sleep.”

“Shouldn’t kiss me like that if you want me to sleep. Now I want to do other things.” 

Cesaro laughed, kissing his forehead. “You will fall asleep halfway through and I will be very insulted.”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Let’s not take the chance. We’ve been getting along so well.” He let Sheamus pull him back in close. “Do I have to resort to other languages? I know many.”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

He started with French. “Go to sleep,” he said, kissing Sheamus’ temple as he settled him more comfortably in the crook of his arm. He switched to the Italian next. “This has been my best year too,” he said, his lips close to Sheamus’ ear. Spanish next. “I fought against that for too long,” he said, kissing behind his jaw just below where the beard started. German now. “I didn’t think I ever wanted another partner.” He was reasonably certain Sheamus was asleep or close to it now, his weight heavy and welcome against his shoulder. Finally, Swiss. “I promise I won’t waste any more time.”

Cesaro stroked his hair, letting the echo of that moment we’d they’d both hit the floor outside the cage at the same time and knew _they had done it_ wash through him. He reached for his phone and turned on the camera, angling the shot to capture Sheamus’ broad back and his head pillowed on Cesaro’s shoulder and the way the sheet pooled around hips.

“Did you take another picture of me?” Sheamus murmured.

“Maybe.”

“Don’t put it online.”

“Not this time.”

Sheamus snuggled closer. Cesaro started a silent countdown. “…wait, what do you mean this time?”

Cesaro chuckled, reaching over shut off the bedside lamp at least before wrapping both arms around his partner. “Get me back for it later.”

Sheamus nodded, his arm locking tight around Cesaro’s waist. “Don’t wake me up if I’ve dreamed this whole night.”

“If so then we’ve both been dreaming,” Cesaro said, closing his eyes and feeling Sheamus’ breath against his neck. He loved how that dream was a nightmare for everyone else. He was going to do everything he possibly could to make sure this night repeated forever. “Now go to sleep.”

Cesaro then followed his own advice, only lasting a few second of listening to Sheamus breathe before slipping under himself. He dreamed about winning, and Sheamus’ arm wrapping tight around his shoulders, and the roar of the disapproving crowd as the two of them set out to rule the world.


End file.
